


Running With The Careers- A Marvel Love Story- THG

by THG_CLATOshipper



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, POV First Person, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THG_CLATOshipper/pseuds/THG_CLATOshipper
Summary: Aaliya Camron's life changes when she is whisked away from her home of District4.  She is brought to the Capital to compete in the 74th Hunger Games.  She is pretty confident about the games, especially if she has her new friend Brady with her.  But when she meets Marvel, the boy from District 1, she knows she could never win.  Will Aaliya be able to handle the pressure of running with the careers?All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes.  All the OC character belong to me.
Relationships: Cato/Clove (Hunger Games), Marvel (Hunger Games)/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. The Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on updating this fic frequently. There will be NO sexual scenes or swearing in this book. Remember to comment with any suggestions or to tell me how much you like this fic. I am willing to take any ideas you have into mind and if I use them I will give you all the credit. Please only comment positive things. I understand if you do not like this fic, but please keep all negative things to yourself. I hope you enjoy my fic!!!

**Chapter 1- Day Of the Reaping**

I woke up to the sound of the rushing ocean of District 4. I loved my district. It was beautiful here with the ocean and all. My mom said not all the districts had an ocean. I couldn’t imagine that. 

I climbed out of my bed and looked at myself. My beautiful blue silk pajamas were all ruffled and my chocolate brown hair a mess. I turn and scan the room. 

It’s really nice. The walls are a beautiful dark blue with a white trim. I looked around the room to the bed in the right corner. It has a blanket that is meant to look like the night sky. It was sky blue with white shining stars. I smiled thinking about the day I begged my mom to buy this, I was only seven. I turned toward the door and my eyes landed on something. Above the door in shiny green letters, is one word. Finnick. 

I let out a small laugh. My mom thought I was going to be a boy. Actually she was determined I was going to be a boy. My mom was a HUGE Finnick Odair fan. If I was a boy that was going to be my name. 

I put my hand on the cool door handle and crept out into the hall. I walked down the hall and peered into my moms room. She was looking at something in her closet. Probably another Finnick Odair Poster. I kept walking down the hall to the bathroom. I walk inside and start the shower. Only the richest districts have showers. I climbed in and enjoyed the warm water on my skin. I got my strawberry shampoo, washed my hair, and enjoyed the scent. 

I climbed out of the shower and saw a dress. I bet my mom left it here for me. It was a beautiful green and had a black braided belt with a silver buckle. I slipped the dress on and it went down to my knees. I put on my silver star necklace and I look perfect. 

I heard footsteps and turned around to see my mom. “ Oh you look beautiful, Aaliya,” she smiled and said. She pulled over a chair and motions for me to sit. I sit and she brushes my hair. I look in the mirror and see my mom is about to cry. 

“Don’t cry mom,” I say “I’ll be okay”

“I know” she says “You look so much like your father.” My father. He died before I was born. He was from the Capital. He and my mom were going to get married after they found out she was pregnant . They were going to move in together at my moms house in District 4 and the Capital was mad. They decided the best thing to do was just kill him, so they did. 

She finishes braiding my hair and smiles. She gives me a small hug and walks downstairs. I put on some mascara and red lipstick. I walked downstairs and approached my mom. She was about to give me her annual speal about what to do if I get reaped. I stop her.

“Mom this is my 5th reaping. I know what to do if I get reaped. I train, I get a trident or knife, and I don’t die.” She was about to say something again but I stopped her. “AND if I get reaped and meet Finnick Odair then I convince him to send you an autograph.” She smiles and then laughs. I kiss her on the cheek and she heads out the door. 

I decide to leave a note just in case I get reaped.  Dear Mom,  I write,

I hope you never have to read this and I can be home with you tonight. But you know I’m 16 and my name is in that bowl a lot of times. Remember to eat and not just stare at me on the tv. Go out with your friends and swim with the turtles, just like you love to do. There is stew and baked apples with goat milk for dinner. If I get reaped I could live. I can hunt and I excel with a trident and knives. I”m also smarter then the District 1 tributes who only care about murder and being pretty, and those District 2 tributes who only care about blood, death, and winning everything. I love you. Remember that.

Best Of Wishes,

-Aaliya

I fold the letter and set it on the table. I hope she doesn't ever need to read that. I walk outside, lock the door, and head to the reaping 

When I get there a peacekeeper asks me for my finger. I give them my finger and they stab a little needle type machine into my finger and put the blood on the paper. It didn’t hurt that much. Probably because I'm used to it. They then tell me to go, and call for the next child. I turn and head over to the other sixteen year old girls and wait for the reaping to start. 

First the mentours of the year came up. They will mentour this year's tributes before the games and help earn them sponsors. We have had the third most victors here in District 4; so we have two different mentours each year. I watched as Finnick Odair and Tiana Richards came out onto the stage and wave. They then went and sat down next to our mayor. They must be the mentors this year, I thought. 

Then the Mayor came on stage and welcomed us to this year's reaping. I wasn’t even paying attention to his speech, instead I was watching my mom back with the other adults. I couldn’t help but give a small laugh and smile, my mom was totally fangirling . Suddenly Stacy Bridgeton, our escort, comes on stage in 8 inch heels and a bright blue wig that's even bigger than her heels. “Welcome,Welcome,” she says “ To the reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games.” She plays a video about why they started these games. “ Don’t you just love that,” she calls as she fixes the bright blue wig. 

“ First for the girls,” she says. She fumbles around in the big crystal bowl and pulls out a little paper with gold sealing . I pray it's not me. She taps on the microphone twice and in a big old capital accent she starts to read the paper. “ The girl tribute who will represent District 4 in the 74th annual Hunger Games is Aaliya Camron'' I feel my head spin and my feet walk to the stage. I try to look as confident as possible but that's more difficult than it seems. My head is spinning so fast I can’t even hear who the boy tribute is. They tell me to shake hands with the boy tribute like we were congratulating each other for going to die. I don’t dare look up at his face because I don't want to have to see who I will have to kill. 

A peacekeeper comes and grabs my arm. I am thrown into a room to wait for people to come say goodbye. My MOM. She comes in and hugs me and sobbs into my shoulder until the peacekeepers take her away. “I love you she calls” I try to say it back but I can’t form the words.

I hear footsteps and turn around. “It’s time to leave,” a peacekeeper says. He came up and grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. 

I rip my arm away and say “I don’t need your help,” with as much sass and confidence as possible. The peacekeeper looks shocked. I walk out to the train, go inside, and watch myself speed away from District 4. 


	2. On The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 2- On The Train 

I watch as the only home I have ever known speeds away before my eyes. I am standing at the back of the train and haven't moved an inch since we boarded the train. Our mentors boarded from a different door and still haven’t come to get us. Stacy Bridgeton decided she needed a wardrobe change (Thank God) and went to change. The boy and I were left here alone.

“Are you scared of what could happen to us?” the boy asks me. I decide to turn and face him. He looks older than what I expected. He has a tan from the sun of our district, wavy brown hair, and is a little taller than me. 

“A little,” I say, “I haven't thought about it that much. I’m more worried about my mom and what she's doing. I’m Aaliya Cameron” 

“Brady Tompson” he says and smiles. “Maybe we should stop staring out the window and go find somewhere to sit.” 

I simply nod my head and we walk down the hall. There are bright blue walls with white lace covering them. There are pictures hung of all the District 4 tributes before us and on the opposite walls the victors. We found a door and peered into the room. It had the same walls as the hall just without the pictures. Instead there was a giant portrait of President Snow. There were blue velvet chairs with little gold pillows and a small table with sweets. Brady and I walk in, and Brady sits down in one of the chairs. I walk over and grab a creampuff for me and a raspberry tart for Brady. 

I walk over, give him the tart, and sit opposite of him. “Thanks,” he says and takes a bite. “This is the best thing I ever tasted” he moans. It’s quiet and then he says “So let's get to know each other. I’ll go first. I’m 17, my favorite color is red, and my favorite food is grilled salmon. What about you?”

“I’m sixteen, my favorite color is teal, and my favorite food is definitely these creampuffs.” I say and smile. He laughs and we hear footsteps coming. Suddenly Stacy Bridgeton bursts through the door and gives a sigh. 

“Looks like you two have made yourselves right at home.” She turns towards the sweets table and shrieks “Who ate all the Creampuffs!!” Brady and I just laugh and she glares at us. 

“Sugarcubes are much better than cream puffs Miss Bridgeton,” Finnick Odair says as he walkes into the room. He flashes a smile. He then turns to Brady and me and says “I’m Finnick Odair. And you two must be Miss Aaliya and Mr. Brady who I get the lucky pleasure of mentoring this year,” he says and flashes another smile. “Tomorrow before we get to the capital, me and Tiana Richards will be answering any of your questions and coming up with a plan of what you will do for the capitals first look at you. But for now you are free to check out your rooms and we will leave you alone.” 

“Thank you,” Brady and I say in union. Finnick nods, waves, and walkes away. 

“You two better not ever become as annoying as him if you win your games,” Stacy Bridgeton huffs and walked away. 

I let out a small laugh and turn toward Brady. “Maybe we should go check out our rooms and meet back in the dining room, wherever that is, for supper at six thirty?” I ask him. 

“It’s a deal,” he says with a smile. Brady and I get up and walk towards the door. We come by a door that says Brady Thompson first.

“I think that's your room,” I say and point toward the door. 

“That would make sense,” he smiles. He opens the door and looks inside. “Bye,” he says. He waves and slips inside. I wave back and head farther down the hallway. Beside Brady’s room there is a door that says small lounge. I head down the hall a little farther and see another door.

On the door in fancy letters says the name Aaliya Cameron. “ This must be my room,” I mutter and open the door. I slip inside and my mouth falls in shock. District 4 isn’t poor by any means but we couldn’t ever afford anything like this. I walk farther into my room and look around.

The walls are a pretty shade of dark blue. On the walls there were pictures of District 4. There is a giant bed with black covers and a fluffy gray blanket. There were also fluffy pillows in the colors of forest green and light purple. I kept walking and saw a beautiful dresser painted white with little gold designs. There was also a matching closet. On the bedside table there was a little curved piece of plastic. I picked it up and I slid my finger across it and the window changed to a different scene. It must change the scenery I thought.

I decide I will get a shower before dinner. I see there is a door beside the dresser and open it. It leads to a beautiful bathroom. I undress and walk into the walk-in shower. There are buttons that have a variety of shampoo scents, conditioner scents, body wash scents, water temperatures, and different pressures. I shoes hot water with a medium water pressure. After the water turns on a wash cloth comes out of a little slot. The washcloth had my name printed on it in gold letters. I choose a citrus bodywash and it smells so good. Next I choose a matching scent of vanilla shampoo and conditioner. I turn off the water and a blast of warm air blows through the vents until I'm completely dry. Next it passes me a towel that matches the wash cloth. 

I wrap the towel around me and walk to the dresser. I pull out a black leather skirt and purple crop top that ruffles. I also see a pair of black flats and pull them on. I leave my hair down with a silver star clip. I see that it's six fifteen, and head out of my room.

I walk down the hall and see that Brady has left his room. I continue walking and see that Tiana Richards and Finnick are talking in the room Brady and I were in earlier. A couple more doors down I see there are the words Dining Hall in fancy gold ink. I walk inside and see Brady Tompson standing there. He is wearing a black polo shirt and blue jeans. “Hey” he says and I smile. “ I found this dining hall and it has a buffet!!!” He squeals. I can tell he's excited about that. I didn’t know a seventeen year old boy could make a noise like that. He holds a plate out towards me. 

I walk over and grab the plate. We go through the buffet and I get a bowl of lamb stew, a couple scoops of potatoes and some tomatoes. I look over at Brady’s plate and see Grilled salmon, pork, potatoes, and corn. I fill my cup up with a red juice and Brady puts a blue juice in his. Next I put like ten cream puffs on my plate. I can’t help it, there awesome!!! Brady puts two raspberry tarts on his. 

When our plates are full we walk over to a table and start to eat. “I have an idea,” Brady announces. “ Tonight we should bring back a couple of these sweets to our rooms, get in our pjs, and watch one of the past Hunger Games together to help give us ideas. 

“I’m in,” I say. “What Games should we watch?”

“ Let's watch the 71st. That way it’s recent but not so long ago things will be entirely different.” 

“That’s the Games with Johana Mason,” I say. “She’s one of my favorite victors.” We continue eating and when we’re finished I put a couple of our favorite sweets in a bag. 

“Let’s meet in your room in twenty minutes,” he says.

I nod and we start walking back to our rooms. I slip into my room and head over to my closet. I grab a purple silk tank top and a pair of matching shorts. I walk over to the small glass table and grab a small remote. I turn on the tv and push play on the 71st Hunger Games. 

A few minutes later I hear a knock on my door. “Come in,” I yell. Brady walks in and flashes his crooked smile. He turns toward the table and turns around, leaps, and bellyflops onto the bed. I bust out laughing. 

We sit beside each other on the bed and start watching the games. We are into the 5th day before any of us say a word. “I think I’ll have my cream puffs now,” I say reaching for the bag. Brady laughs and sets the bag between us. We both slowly take bites of the delicate pastries as we watch the District 8 male be beheaded. It was a bad time to be eating. 

We get to day ten when I start to get tired. I look at the time and see it’s almost midnight. I yawn and lay my head on Brady’s shoulder. “Tired?” he asks and looks down at me. 

“Kinda,” I say and yawn again. “I can probably make it through this day and then I’ll go to sleep.”

He nodds, wrapps his arms around me, and goes back to watching the tv. I decide I’ll close my eyes just for a couple of minutes. I think Brady must have thought I was asleep because I heard the tv turn off. 

Brady lifts me up and pulls the covers over me. I relax a little and Brady gets off the bed . I feel his cold lips kiss me on the cheek and he whispers goodnight. A couple minutes later the lights go out and Brady pulls the door shut behind him. 

I settle in and close my eyes tighter, ready to face my dreams. 

I wake up under the trees and hear the mockingjays singing. I pack up all my things and head out deeper into the woods. A few minutes later I hear a noise and a figure slowly emerges. I see a boy with a tan and black wavy hair. He pulls out a knife and holds it aimed right at me.  Brady . He releases the knife and before I can do anything. It hits me in the chest, the blade deep in my skin. I see bright red blood and collapse in pain. I stare over at the boy I know is Brady. I see a crooked smirk instead of the smile I used to see and love. I see his face start to blur and the sky starts to turn white. 

I wake up screaming and panting heavily. I look over and see it’s six o'clock and decide to just get up. I walk over to the closet and see a white blouse that fades into teal and another black leather skirt. I decide I will look my best for the Capital. I pull on the outfit and collaspe my star necklace around my neck. I pull out a pair of black wedges and slip them on to my feet. Next I french braid my hair into two pigtail braids and walk down the hall to Bradys room. 

“Knock Knock,” I say and I hear Brady come to the door. He opens the door and gives me his crooked smile. I prefer the smile much more than the smirk he gave me in my dream. 

“Ready for breakfast?” he asks. I nod and we walk down to the dining hall we were in last night. “How did you sleep last night?” he asks me.

“Great,” I lie and throw in a smile to make it more believable. We walk over to the buffet and get started. I grad a pile of eggs and bacon, a buttered roll, and a scoop of strawberries. 

We walk over a table and begin to eat. About two minutes later we hear footsteps coming and the door opens to reveal Tiana Richards and Finnick Odair. 

“Good morning you two” says Tiana Richards and gives us a big smile. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself yesterday, but Miss Stacy Bridgeton decided she was going to reorganize my WHOLE room and I had to fix it.” 

Me and Brady laugh and our mentours come sit opposite of us. “So do you have any questions for us?” Finnick Odair asks. 

“Does this train have any cream puffs before lunch?” I ask and Brady bursts out laughing. 

“I meant about the games or the week before you are thrown into the arena.” Finnick replies clearly annoyed. 

“Are you going to answer my question,” I ask back. 

“This one has sass,” Finnick responds. 

“Oh this is getting good,” Brady says and laughs.

“SHUT UP BRADY” me and Finnick yell in union.

“Ok does anyone have a serious question?” Tiana asks. 

“What are we doing today,” Brady asks. 

“Today when we finnish up here we will exit the train and you will see your stylist for the tribute parade,” Tiana replies. 

We talk for about another hour about what we will be doing while we’re at the capital. “Ok guys,” Finnick says. “ Me and Tiana have to go outside. We've made it the capital. When you are ready, and make it fast, head over to the door and they will let you out.” Finnick finishes and him and Tiana walk out the room. 

“Are you ready?” Brady asks me. 

“Ready as I'll ever be,'' I respond. Brady and I walk out the door and head over to where we will be revealed to the world. We push a button and the doors slowly start to rise. Brady looks over and gives me a reassuring smile. 

The doors fully open and we see a bunch of people in the most ridiculous outfits I've ever seen, all clapping. I grab Brady’s hand as if he was about to slip into the darkness and leave me here alone with these freaks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the second chapter!! Remember to leave kudos or comment if you like the fic so far!!


	3. The Tribute Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for not posting yesterday as planned!! I was really busy with Halloween. Hope you like the chapter, remember to please leave kudos and/or comments!!!

Chapter 3- The Tribute Parade

I continue holding Brady’s hand until he pulls it away. He grabs me and embraces me in his arms. We stay like this, too scared to move, until Tiana comes for me. 

“Ok lovebirds” she says. I blush and wiggle out of Brady’s arms. “I need Aaliya to come with me to meet her stylists. Brady, Finnick will come get you and take you to your stylist any minute.” She grabs my hand and starts pulling me away.

“Good Luck!!” I hear Brady call as Finnick drags him away. I don’t turn back because I'm too embarrassed to look at him. 

“Sorry if I embarrassed you back there. I just needed to get your attention. I know you're not in love,” Tiana says as she pulls me along the hall. I nod my head. 

We near a door and a lady with pink skin walkes out the door and comes towards me. “They better not dye my skin pink,” I mutter, Just loud enough for Tiana to hear. 

“They won’t,” Tiana calls as she hands me over to the lady.

The lady brings me into the room where there are two other people waiting. One has a gold wig and I decide to call her Goldie. The other has 9 inch heels so I will name her Heels. I will call the one who brought me in Pinkie. 

Goldie brings me over to a giant wash bin and undresses me. “Get in,” she says and pushes me forward. I cautiously put one foot in and slowly lower myself in. Then things get crazy. Suddenly a million arms come at with different soaps and fizzes. My hair is washed with a nasty smelling shampoo and they pour in a fizz that makes my skin feel itchy. 

Pinkie and Heels lift me up and the hot air blasts me. Goldie puts me in a robe the color of her hair. They lead me over to a silver table and push me on to it. 

I wonder what Brady's being put through right now. My thoughts are answered by a scream that could only be Brady. 

“Be quiet boy. My waxing doesn’t hurt!!” That could only be his stylist. I look up to see Pinkie holding a stick with wax on it. I swear she waxes my whole body until all my skin is raw. 

“It’s time to bring you to Katrina,” Goldie says. She motions for me to follow her and she leads me down to a set of doors. “ In you go,” she says and pushes me through the door. 

I walk in and Goldie shuts the door. “ Hello, my name is Katrina, you must be Aliya. Come over here and we’ll get started,” Katrina says. 

Katrina looks beautiful. She has shoulder length hair brown curled around her head. She has on a silver eyeshadow with glittery mascara and light pink lipstick. Around her neck is a gold chain with a little bird. She is wearing a light pink dress that ruffles around the edge. She also has a pair of small heels that are white. 

“Come here sweetie” she says. “We have some food for you to eat while I do your hair.” 

I walk over and see a chair with a plate full of food. There is rack of lamb, potatoes, peas, and a couple of cream puffs. I eat while Katrina braids my hair into two ponytails. 

“How do you like your hair,” Katrina asks me. “Is it too much?” she asks worriedly.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “ I was expecting something like Stacy Bridgetons hair. This is way more of my style.” I say and let out a little laugh. Katrina smiles clearly relieved. I bet it’s her first year as a stylist. 

I finish eating and Katrina brings me over to a small table. “It’s time for makeup!!” she says. She must have seen the worried look on my face because she says, “don’t worry it won’t be like Stacy Brindgetons.”

She puts a clear lipgloss on my lips. It is followed by a shimmery pink blush. “Next for the eyes,” Katrina says. She puts on a natural color eyeshadow with thin black eyeliner. Then she puts on a deep black mascara. 

“Do you like it?” She asks clearly unsure again. 

“Stop doubting yourself,” I say with a smile. “It’s really pretty. I’m not lying.” She smiles. 

“Next we have to get you dressed. We’re all supposed to dress you in something that goes with your district.”

“So you're going to dress me as a fish,” I say. 

“Not exactly,” she replies. Katrina walks over behind a curtain and comes back with the outfit in her hand. It was a turquoise dress with a blue sash flowing from the arm across the stomach attached with a starfish. There was also a piece of shimmery fabric flowing from the back with an attached headpiece. 

“Oh my gosh Katrina. It’s beautiful,” I exclaim!! She smiles and hands it to me to try on. I slip it on and it is so comfortable. The dress goes down to my ankles and flows like the ocean. The crown on my head is made of beautiful gemstones. “Wow Katrina. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve worn.” 

Katrina smiles and blushes a crisomen red. “I’m glad you like it. Now come on, we have to go get you and your district partner ready for the parade.” 

We walk out of the building and go out to a courtyard. There are 12 floats with beautiful horses ready to pull them. The carriages are black with a gold handle. The horses are black with silver bridles attaching them to the carriage. 

I walk over to a carriage and pet the horses. “What are you doing with my horses,” a girl with blonde hair and a shimmery pink dress says. 

“I’m sorry I -” 

“Come on Glimmer,” a boy says “ Don’t be mean to the pretty little girl,” he says. He is wearing a similar outfit as Glimmer, just not a dress. Before I can look up at his face someone starts pulling me away. 

“Get away from these losers,” Brady says as he pulls me away. I look back at the tributes and I realise they must be from District 1. The girl, Glimmer, is waving her hair around and fluttering her eyelashes trying to get the boy to look at her. I look at the boy and see he is smirking at me. I stare back and feel heat rise to my cheeks. 

“What the heck was all that mushy gushy smiling and twirling your hair all about. He’s going to die Aaliya, you hear me?? DIE!!! DON'T FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!” Brady was yelling now but I wasn’t paying attention. I feel Brady start to pull me away again. The boy from District 1 turns and jumps onto his carriage. 

I turn away and climb on to my own carriage. I hold on to the gold handle and the Panem Anthem starts to play. District 1 starts to roll out. About two minutes later District 2 pulls out. They are wearing battle armor. “Cato!!!! Clove!!!!!! Stop!!!! You forgot your extra makeup!!! The fancy lady yells who could only be their stylists. 

“Ready?” Brady asks me as the District 3 carriage starts to pull out. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply. My hands are shaking. “What if they don’t like me. I won’t get any sponsors, they won’t give me food, I’ll die on the first day of the Hunger Games and no one will even remember me,” I whisper just loud enough for Brady to hear. 

“How could someone ever not like you. I’ve known you for two days and I like you. You won’t die. I’ll make sure of that,” He says. He grabs my hand and gives me his crooked smile. Our carriage pulls out and I watch as a million people in the stands start clapping. “See? They love you,” Brady says and I smile at him. 

We keep riding until we reach a gold circle below where President Snow is standing. When all of the carriages are here Snow begins to say a speech. 

I don’t pay attention, instead I glance at all the tributes. There are the tributes from District 1 first. The boy looks really strong, but the girl looks kind of weak and annoying. The ones from District 2 look - WOW. The boy, Cato, is strong and fierce. The girl, Clove, looks small but deadly. I know I need to watch for her. The next person who stands out is the girl from District 5. She has red hair and her face is sly like a fox. I can tell she is smart. Next would be District 11. The boy is tall and muscular but looks friendly, unlike Cato. The girl looks small and could only be 12 years old. It was so unfair that she was brought into this mess. The only other noticeable ones are the tributes from 12 who are currently on fire. 

Snow finishes his speech and tells us we can go to our rooms. Brady and I walk over to the elevator and our mentors join us. The doors slowly start to shut and I see the boy from District 1 smirking at me again. I stare into his gray eyes, the doors close, and I feel my heart melt away. 


	4. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 4 - Training 

I wake up the next morning to Stacy Bridgeton standing over me. “Up, Up!!! Get dressed you have to get to training,” she says and storms out the door. 

I sigh and roll out of bed. The clock reads 9:50am. Training starts at 10. I see there are already clothes set out for me. There is a black shirt with a red stripe on the arm. It has the number 4 stitched in both of the sleeves to represent my district. The pants are black with a red stripe down the sides. There are black lace up combat boots. 

I pull on the shirt and zip up the zipper on the chest. It clings to my skin and is a very thin material. The pants are comfortable, but a little too tight for my taste. The boots are the perfect fit and are very comfortable. 

I walk over to the mirror and the outfit actually looks good on me. I pull my hair up into a high ponytail and wrap a black bandana around my head. 

I walk out the door and head over to Brady’s room. I knock on the door and Brady walks out. He is wearing an identical outfit as me. He gives me his crooked smile and holds his arms out. He must know how nervous I am. I don’t hesitate to run into his arms. I feel like nothing can hurt me when I’m in his arms. 

We walk down the hall and grab a piece of toast to eat on our way to training. Tiana approaches us with her hands on her hips. 

“You two are late!! We have to go get you to training. It starts in two minutes!!” Tiana says to us angrily. 

Brady and I ride down to training with an angry Tiana Richards. It was very uncomfortable. I will make sure I am never late again. 

When we arrive at training Tiana Richards tells us to go inside, we do not hesitate in fear we will make her angry again. We enter the room and see only a few tributes are there. There are the tributes from 1, 2, 3, 7, 11, and 12. I see the next available spot to stand is by the tributes from 1 and 2. The two tributes from District 2 are standing next to each other scanning all of the other tributes. The girl from District 1, Glimmer, was standing by the mysterious boy from District 1, her skinny arms wrapped around his muscular one.

I walk over and stand by the boy from District 1. Brady goes and makes a conversation with the tributes from 3. We agreed to try to get on the other's good side.

An Avox comes over and pins the letter 4 to my back. Glimmer grabs the boys arm harder as if she's jealous that I’m here. I see the tributes from District 2 look at me. I stand there like I’m one of them. The girl from District 2 looks impressed. 

The other tributes slowly trickle in. So much for being late. When it’s exactly 10 o'clock the head trainer enters the circle. She is a tall and athletic woman named Atala. 

“In two weeks 23 of you will be dead. One will be alive,” she begins. I grimace at the thought. The boy from 1 smirks at me. Atala continues, “Experts in each skill will remain at their stations. You will be free to travel from station to station as you choose. Some teach you survival skills, others are fighting techniques. You are forbidden to engage in any combative exercise with another tribute. You’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena.”

While Atala reads the list of skill stations, my eyes can’t help but look at the other tributes. It’s the first time all of us were together on level floor and wearing simple clothes. My heart stops. All the boys and at least half the girls are bigger than me, even though most of them have never been fed properly. I can see it in their bones, their skin, the hollow look in their eyes. 

The exception is the tributes from the wealthier districts, the volunteers, the ones who have been fed and trained their whole lives for this moment. The tributes from Districts 1 and 2 normally have this look. They probably have like, fifty pounds on me. Like it or not, the victor will be one of them, they normally win. 

When Atala realises us the careers head to the deadliest weapons. Finnick and Tiana told Brady and I that we should head separate ways the whole time no matter what. I don’t know why for sure but maybe they want us to learn different skills to teach each other? I’m probably wrong. 

There are so many different stations it’s hard to decide what one to go to first. I decide that I will tie knots first. The trainer looks pleased to have someone attend his station. 

He shows me a simple knot that I instantly nail. He sees that I can build a snare and shows me a complicated one. I spend the next hour perfecting it. It has a hole that your foot would go through and you would hang by the foot. It would probably come in handy in the arena. 

Next, I head over to the camouflage station. I swirl combinations of mud, clay, and berry juices around on my pale skin. I don’t think I’m that skilled at it, but it might be useful. As I am trying to paint a leafy vine on my skin, I can’t help but watch as Cato sends a spear through a dummy's heart from 15 yards away.

I decide to go to the knife throwing station, I can throw a knife but I could be better. I see the girl from District 2, Clove, throwing knives, and stop in my tracks. She throws knife after knife and never misses the heart.

I walk over to her and grab a knife. I aim at the heart but come up around a foot short. I groan frustrated, I can normally get a little closer than that. “Do you want some tips? I could show you how to throw better.” Clove says to me as she throws another knife.

I look over at her shocked she said something to me. Well, not anything rude. “Sure,” I tell her. Clove shows me how to hold the knife better. Apparently, I would have better aim holding the knife away from the blade. She shows me how to aim and release and I give it a try. I don’t hit the heart the first couple of times but Clove keeps giving me encouragement and I start to hit the heart every time.

“Nice, District 4!! You could be a knife expert one day. I’m better than you though,” Clove says and throws a knife just to prove it.

“Thanks,” I say and smile. “My names Aaliya.” 

“Clove,” she replies. Clove and I continue to train together until lunch. I showed her how to use a trident, but she said she likes smaller weapons more. 

“Okay tributes!! That’s enough training. You are now released to go to lunch,” Atala says in a loud voice.

I start to head over to a table all by myself, since I couldn’t be with Brady, when Clove jumps in front of me. “Hey District 4!!” she says referring to me. “You should come sit with us,” she says, gesturing to the other careers. They’re all standing there, just staring at us. Well except for Glimmer, she's still trying to get her district partner to notice her.

“Sure,” I reply. I’ve been noticed. Not because of my district, but because of my talent. We head over and Clove introduces me. 

“Guys, this is Aaliya Camron from District 4,” she says. She turns toward me and motions to the others in turn. “Aaliya this is Cato Hadley,” Cato looks at me and nodds as if he approves. Clove continues, “Glimmer Belcourt,” Glimmer gives me a glare like daggers. I decide to glare back, thankfully the others didn’t see. “And this, is-” Cloves' words were cut short by Atala.

“Have you guys even ate!!! Your mentours are outside waiting for you all,” she says and walks away. When I turn back to the others to say goodbye, I see only Clove and Cato are left.

“Bye Aaliya,” Clove says and her and Cato head out to meet their mentors. I walk out of the big glass doors of the training room and see Finnick waiting for us. I walk over to him and Brady meets us a moment later. 

We head into the elevator in complete silence. I’m surprised that Finnick hasn't said anything, maybe he’s waiting until we’re back to our floor. 

The elevator stops and the three of us head out into the lounge area. When I enter the room I see Stacy, Katrina, and Tiana waiting for us. I head over and sit down on a small couch facing the others. Brady comes over, sits beside me, and puts an arm around me. I smile and face the others. 

“So what did you do in training today?” Katrina asks Brady and I. 

“Well I mainly stuck to the survival stations. Poisonous berries, making shelters, and I learned how to make a fire with the boy from District 6. I did a little bit with a scythe, but I’m already pretty good at that,” Brady announces. 

“That’s a good plan, Brady. The survival skills are commonly underestimated,” Tiana says.

“What did you do, Aaliya,” asks Finnick.

“Well, I started with knots, then I did camouflage. Then the girl from District 2, Clove, taught me how to throw knives really well,” I say. 

Finnick’s water bursts out of his mouth in clear shock. “The girl from District 2!!!!” he says. 

“Yeah she was really nice to me. I also taught her how to use a trident. She introduced me to the other careers,” 

Finnick rolls his eyes. “You two can go to your rooms, it's getting late.” I simply nod and head to the kitchen to grab some food.

“Hey, you wanna watch another past game tonight?” Brady asks me as he scoops a pile of potatoes onto his plate. 

“Well I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go to my room, eat, and crawl back into bed,” I say. He nods and walkes over to a table. 

I finish loading my plate and head over to the door. “Goodnight Brady,” I say and look him in the eyes. 

“Night, Aaliya,” he says and gives me his crooked smile. I smile back and head to my room. I sit down at the small table and turn the tv on to the reapings. I see it’s the reaping from District 12. Katniss volunteered for her little sister, and Peeta was reaped into these games. 

When it’s over I pull on some pajamas and crawl into bed. I lay there thinking about the boy from District 1. He is so mysterious I didn’t even know his name yet. I eventually I close my eyes and let my brutal dreams attack.


	5. Private Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 5- Private Training

“Up Aaliya, Up Aaliya, Up, Up, UP!!!” sings Stacy Bridgeton in opera.

“What the heck are you doing in my room!!! It’s 6am!!!” Her singing was like a nightmare, like a possum singing in a giant silver wig.

“You need to get ready!! You have private training today!!” Stacy sings.

“Stacy.” I say trying to keep my cool. “Training doesn’t start till 12.” I finally lose my cool. “It’s only 6am!” I scream on the top of my lungs.

“What’s wrong!!” Brady yells running into the room. “Oh Stacy woke you up too. Come on Stacy,” Brady says and starts to push a singing Stacy out the door. 

When Brady finally gets Stacy out the door I run up and hug him. “Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!!!! You saved my LIFE!!” I say. Brady laughs and gives me his crooked smile.

“Go get dressed. We have to meet with Finnick and Tiana about private training,” Brady says. With that he heads out the door.

I throw on an identical outfit as yesterday. I braid my brown hair up into a bun and head out the door. I walk down the hall and find Everyone in the dining room. I walk over to the chair beside Brady and sit down.

My plate is overflowing with different meats, eggs, and crazy assortments of fruits. “Eat up guys. You have a big day today,” Finnick says as he shoves a spoon full of eggs into his mouth. 

“In your private training today I suggest you show off. Skills your best at. Your training score could mean life or death in the arena. Stronger score means you will get sponsors. Low score you get no sponsors and die from lack of supplies,” Tiana says and takes a bite of fruit. “What do you think you're best at?”

“Well I think I’ll use knives like Clove taught me. I’ll probably spear a couple dummies with a trident. Maybe shoot an arrow or two” I say.

“Good plan, Aaliya. What about you, Brady?” asks Finnick.

“I’ll probably stick to a scythe. Maybe throw a few spears.” 

“Also a good plan.” replies Tiana. 

For the next couple hours we continue talking about training ideas and possible scores. Stacy showed up about half way through and blamed Brady for messing up her wig earlier.

“Ok guys. It’s time to head down to the training center. Good luck,” Tiana says. 

Brady and I thank her and head down to the first floor. We have to wait in the lunch room until our name is called. We sit next to the tributes from District 3. We are served a giant lunch but not many people eat, too nervous about what is about to come.

Tributes are slowly starting to be called in. First from District 1, then District 2. Each tribute would get fifteen minutes. First the girl then the boy. The tributes never returned once they were released. They probably all went back to watch the training scores on tv.

“Aaliya Camron,” a robotic voice calls, summoning me to the room. I head inside after receiving a hug for good luck from Brady. All the Gamemakers sat up in a balcony feasting on some sort of pig. “You have fifteen minutes Ms. Camron. You may start,” calls the same robotic voice. 

I decide I will make the show interesting so the Gamemakers can’t help but watch. I grab a trident from the stack of weapons and head over to the giant net. I am most comfortable with a trident so I decide to make that the most interesting. I climb up the net trident in hand to seek out my first victim. I see a dummy and leap off the net. I hit the dummy with so much force it falls over. I stab the blade of the trident into the foam in the place of the dummy's heart. That gives me a thunderous applause from the audience. 

I head over to the knife station and grab a serrated knife. I take my chances and spin into the throw. Thankfully I was having a lucky day for the blade sunk into the dummy’s brain. Next for my final shot I head over and grab a bow. I turn back to the target and line the bow up over my head. I pull back the string and hear the arrow crash into the target. I turn around and see I hit the bullseye. 

“Thank you. You are dismissed,” a gamemaker shouts. I head to the elevator with a smile on my face. That should have got me around a score of five. 

Brady meets me in the elevator soon after. “How do you think you did?” I ask him. 

“Pretty Good. You?”

“Pretty good,” I say and smile. When we arrive on our floor we head to the lounge. We sit on a velvet couch with Finnick, Tiana, Stacy, Katrina, Goldie, Heels, and Pinkie. They must have been able to tell by our smiles we thought we did pretty good because they don’t ask any questions. 

The tv turns on and the Panem anthem plays. Then Caesar Flickerman's face appears and he begins to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is what you’ve all been waiting for. The training scores of this year's Tributes!!! Lets begin. First from District 1, Glimmer with a score of 8.”

I can practically hear Glimmer screaming at what she thinks is a terrible score. Next the boy from District 1’s picture shows up.

“From District 1, Marvel, with the score of 9.” So that was his name. Marvel. I like the sound of that.

“From District 2, Clove with a score of ten!! Also from District 2, Cato with the score of 10.”

“From District 4, Aaliya, with a score of 9.” A smile lights up on my face. A nine, that's really good. “Next, Brady with a score of 8.” Wow. We both did great. I begin to zone out now. The only tribute to score higher than 10 was Katniss Everdeen who got a score of eleven. 

Everyone starts to congratulate me and I smile. My score was one of the best. The games start in three days and now, I’m ready. 


	6. Interviews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

I walk around the tree and see a boy sitting there. “Go get him, Aaliya,” says a tall boy with dreamy eyes. Marvel. He hands me his sword and I put the cool metal in the palm of my hand. I sneak up behind the other boy, the point of the sword on his back. The boy flinches and sits up straight. Before he can arm himself, I push my sword through his back. Another kill, I would be the victor soon. The boy that was the victim of my sword rolled onto his back, his chest moving ever so slightly. 

“I trusted you, Aaliya. I loved you” the boy says with his final effort of life. His eyes find my face as they glaze over. Brady. I just killed my best friend.

I wake up screaming, tears running down my face. I push my face deep into the feather pillows. What if my dreams came true? What if I kill Brady? 

I lay here for what seems like hours, tears still streaking down my face, when someone wraps their arms around me. “What’s wrong, Aaliyah?” someone says in my ear. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Talk to me,” says the boy I know could only be Brady. He grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Tell me,” he says and wipes a tear from my face.

“Well,” I begin. “I had this dream. It was in the games and I saw someone sitting there and some guy told me to go get them. They gave me a sword and I stabbed the boy in the back. It was you Brady.” I say slowly, another tear falling down my cheek. “You said I betrayed you. Those words cut deeper than a knife.” 

Brady pulls me closer into his arms. “It was just a dream. It’s not real,” he says and kisses my forehead. “Look at me Aaliya.” I pull away and look into his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Do you want to be my ally in the games? You don’t have to!! I just thought we could protect each other. Because, well, I-” 

“Of course I want to be your ally, Brady,” I say and hug him even tighter. “I just don’t want my dream to come true.” I can tell he's smiling, even though I can’t see his face.

“Come on you two, get dressed. We have to start your interview training soon!!” Finnick yells and pops a sugarcube into his mouth. 

“I better go. See ya’ soon!!” Brady says running out the door to catch up to Finnick. I let out a small laugh. 

I decide to take a shower this morning before I have to start today's training. When I finish I see someone has left an outfit for me by the sink. That's weird, I never heard anyone come in.

I pull on the teal tank top along with the black jeans. There was a thick braided bracelet the colors of the sea of District 4. I pull it on along with the rose gold watch. The final touch was a pair of ocean blue sandals. It was a great outfit, no way Stacy picked it out. I wonder who did? I brush my hair quickly and head down to breakfast.

When I get to breakfast everyone else is already there, talking quietly about something. “What’d I miss?” I ask taking a seat beside Brady. 

“Like the outfit I picked out for you? You look good in it,” Brady whispers. I nod and raise my eyebrows slightly. Brady picked this out? 

“I was just beginning to explain the schedule for today.” Finnick says and I nod focusing again. “As I was saying, you’ll each have four hours with Stacy for presentation and four hours with me for content. You’ll start with Stacy, Aaliya.”

I can’t imagine what Stacy could teach me for four hours, but she has me working down to the last second. We go to my room and she puts me in a full-length gown, and a pair of high heeled shoes, not the ones I’ll actually be wearing for the interviews, and instructs me on walking. The worst part is the shoes. I’ve never worn heels and can’t get used to wobbling around on the balls of my feet. But Stacy runs around in them full time, so I’m determined if she can do it, so can I. 

The dress is another problem as I’m small for my age and the dress is two sizes too big. It keeps tangling around the shoes so, of course, I pick it up, and then Stacy swoops down on me like a hawk, slapps my hands away yelling, “Not above the ankle!!” When I finally conquer walking, there's still sitting, posture- apparently I tend to talk with my hands, which resulted in her tying my hands to the chair. Then there's still eye contact, simple gestures (she FINALLY untied my hands), and smiling. Brady will have no problem with that. Stacy makes me say hundreds of phrases, all starting with a smile, while smiling, or ending with a smile. By lunch the muscles in my cheeks are burning from overuse. 

“Well that’s the best I can do,” Stacy says with a sigh. “Just remember, Aaliya, you want the audience to like you.”

“And you don’t think they will?” I ask a little hurt.

“Not if you glare at them like you did to me today. You should save that for the arena. Instead think of yourself among friends,” she says her face lighting up at the last part. 

“They're all betting on how long I’ll live, Stacy!!” I burst out. “They’re not my friends!”

“Well, just pretend!” Stacy snaps. Then her face changes and she beams at me. “See, like this. I’m smiling at you even though you're aggravating me.” 

“Yeah, that's very convincing,” I say. I’m going to eat.” I kick my heels off and stomp down to the dining hall, lifting the dress up to my thighs. I pull my clothes back on quickly and enter the dining room. 

Brady and Finnick seem in pretty good moods. I bet the content session will be an improvement after this morning. I couldn’t be more wrong. After lunch, Finnick takes me to the couch and then frowns at me. I’ve never seen Finnick frown so this could be bad. 

“What?” I finally ask.

“I’m trying to figure out what to do with you. You’re a complicated one,” he replies. “How are we going to present you? Charming? Aloof? Fierce? So far you're shining like a star. You were awesome at you’re reaping. Katrina made you look unforgettable. You got one of the best training scores. People love you, but don’t know who you are. The impression you make tomorrow will determine how I will get you sponsors.” says Finnick.

After watching tribute interviews my whole life, I knew there was truth to what he was saying. If you appeal to the crowd, either by being humorous or brutal or energetic, you gain favor. 

“What's Brady's approach? Or am I not allowed to know?” I ask. 

“Likeable. He’s a very likeable guy. You’d be a great couple if it weren't for these games.” I blush, Brady and I. Now way, right? “You on the other hand, have a lot of attitude.”

“I do not!”

“Please. Look at you and Stacy,” he says with a smirk.

“You and Stacy fight just as much as I do. Plus she hasn’t given me any reason to be cheery.”

“You don’t need to please us. We can’t sponsor you. I would if I could. Just pretend I’m the audience. Delight me,” says Finnick.

“Fine!” I groan. Finnick takes the role of the interviewer and I try to answer his questions in a winning fashion, but I can’t. Finnick is making me so mad that I don’t even answer the questions. The longer these interviews go on, the more I want to leave. 

“All right, that’s enough. I’ve asked you fifty questions and I still know nothing about your life, your family, or what you care about. They want to know about you Aaliya,” says Finnick lightly.

“Fine, I’ll tell you something about me. My mom is a huge fan of yours and would like you to send her an autograph,” I snarl.

“Will do. Who should I make it out to?” Finnick says with a smirk. 

“Forget the autograph!”

“Fine. Try being humble,” says Finnick. 

The next few hours were agonizing. At once it was clear that I couldn’t gush. We try me as cocky but Finnick says I don’t have enough arrogance. Apparently I can’t do ferocity. I’m not witty, sexy, or mysterious. 

By the end of the session, I am no one at all. Finnick started to fall asleep around witty. “Aaliya, I just want you to be yourself. Who do you care about in this world? Tell me.”

“Well,” I say hesitantly. “My mom, Brady, you, Katrina, Clove, Cato,” then I decide to add, “Marvel.”

“Ok, well pretend they're all in the audience. Pretend there is no audience. Just all the people you named watching.” I nod, it might actually work. 

I eat dinner in my room that night, eating all the delicates, eating myself sick. Then I decide to get all my anger out. At Stacy, at Finnick, at Brady for thinking he could protect me, at everyone. I smash all the crystal dishes in the room, until I’m all out of dishes. An avox comes in, her eyes wide at the sight of the mess. “Leave it! Just leave it!” I yell. 

I hate her too, with her reproachble eyes that call me a coward, a monster, a puppet of the Capital. But instead of fleeing the room, the girl closes the door behind her and goes into the bathroom. She comes back with a damp cloth and wipes my face, then the blood off my hands from the broken dishes. Why is she doing this? Why am I letting her? I would never let anyone do this, not even Brady. 

I spend the next hour helping the girl clean the mess. When all the garbage has been thrown into a disposal and the food cleaned away, she turns down my bed. I crawl between the sheets like a five year old and let her tuck me in. Then she goes. I close my eyes hoping for no nightmares, but of course, I am wrong. 

**************

In the morning it's not the girl, but my prep team hanging over me. My lessons with Stacy and Finnick are over. This day belongs to Katrina. She is my last hope. Maybe she can make me look so good no one will care what I say. 

The team works on me until late afternoon, turning my skin to glowing satin, stenciling patterns onto my arms, painting ocean designs onto my twenty perfect nails. Then Pinkie starts on my hair, weaving strands of teals into a pattern that begins at my left ear, wraps around my head, and falls into a braid on my right shoulder. They cover my face with a layer of pale makeup and then draw my features back out. Light eyes, full red lips, lashes that throw off bits of light when I blink. Finally they cover my entire body with a powder that makes my skin shimmer in blue dust. 

Then Katrina enters with what I assume is my dress, but I can’t really see because it’s covered. “Close your eyes she orders,” she orders. 

I can feel the silky material as they slip it down over my naked body, then the weight. It must weigh like forty pounds. I clutch Pinkie’s hand as I slip blindly into my shoes, glad to find they're at least two inches shorter than the ones Stacy made me practice in. There’s some adjusting and fidgeting, then silence. 

“Can I open my eyes?” I ask.

“Yes,” Katrina says, “open them.”

The creature standing before me in the full length mirror has come from another world. Her skin shimmers, eyes flash and they make their clothes from jewels. My dress, oh, my dress, is covered in gems, blues and teals and greens, all making ocean patterns around the bottom of the dress. 

I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I look like a princess out of a children's book, and I love it.

For a while we all just stare at me. “Oh, Katrina,” I finally whisper, “thank you.”

Katrina dismisses the team and has me move around in the dress and shoes, which in case you were wondering, are much more manageable than Stacy’s practice. The dress hangs in such a way I don’t even have to lift it, much less to worry about. That leaves me with one less thing to worry about.

Katrina starts to turn the doorknob for us to leave and I stop her hand. “Katrina…” I’m completely overcome with stage fright. 

“Remember Aaliya, they already love you,” she says, “just be yourself. 

We meet the rest of the District 4 crowd at the elevator. Brady’s stylist and her gang have been hard at work. Brady looks striking in his black suit with little ocean designs. We look well together. 

When the elevator opens up, the other tributes are lined up for the stage. All twenty-four of us sit in a giant arc backstage throughout the entire interviews. I’ll be seventh. How I wish I could be first and get this whole thing over with. Now I’ll have to listen to how witty, funny, humble, fierce, and charming everyone else is before I go up. 

Caesar Flickerman, the man who has hosted the interviews for nearly forty years, bounces his way on stage. It's a little scary because his appearance hasn’t changed that whole time. Same face under a coating of pure white makeup. Same hairstyle he dyes a different color every Hunger Games. Same suit, midnight blue dotted with thousands of tiny electric dots that twinkle like stars.

This year, Caesars hair is powder blue, his eyelids and lips a similar color. He looks freakish, but less frightening than last year when his hair was such a crimson red he looked like he was bleeding. Caesar tells a few jokes to lighten up the crowd, then he gets right down to business. 

First was Glimmer, who is wearing a see-through gold dress, steps up to the center of the stage to join Caesar for her interview. You can tell her mentors had no trouble coming up with an angle for her. With her blonde hair, emerald green eyes, her tall and lush body…..she is sexy all the way. Caesar asks her all about how prepared she is, and her reply was “yes Caesar, I’m very prepared.” 

Each interview lasts 3 minutes, then the buzzer goes off and the next tribute is up. Caesar does try to help you out, make you shine. He’s friendly, tries to get the nervous ones at ease, laughs at lame jokes, he can turn a weak response into a memorable one.

Now it was Marvel's turn. I pay very close attention to this one. I think his angle is funny because he keeps cracking jokes. 

“So what inspired you to be in these games?” asked Caesar. 

“Well you see my dad was a hunter. So when he first showed me these games, I was like - BOOM! That’s what I want to do. So once I was trained enough I volunteered,” says Marvel. 

Next, was Cato who talked about how he would kill everyone in the arena. Clove talked about how good she is at knives. I didn’t even pay attention to District 3. A man in a black suit dragged me over to the curtain. I was next.

“Now, ladies and gentleman, let's hear it for one of the most interesting ladies here. Please give a warm welcome for Aaliya Camron, District 4!!!” 

I walked out onto the stage, just like Stacy taught me, smiling and even gave a small wave. I made my way over to Caesar and took a seat. 

“Now tell me Aaliya,” Caesar starts. “Are you prepared for the Games?” 

“Yes Caesar, I think I’m very prepared.”

“Well that’s good. Now tell me, what are you skilled at?”

“Well I can hunt, I can start a fire, and I excel with a trident, bow, and knife,” I reply flashing another smile. He asks me a few questions about my life before the games and I answer the best I can. 

“Well I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for now,” Caesar says. 

“Thank you for having me.”

“Aaliya Camron, District 4 everybody!!” Caesar yells and I walk off the stage. My District 4 team meets me one foot off the stage and compliments me for about everything I did. I thank them quietly and head over to where the careers are.

“Hey District 4!! What’s up!!” Clove says turning towards me.

“Hey guys!! Thought I’d come say hi!” 

“Aaliya!!” Cato practically yells at me. 

“Hi, Aaliya. My names Marvel. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Marvel says extending his hand out to me.

I shake his hand and say “Nice to meet you, Marvel!”

“Out of the way Marvel! She's all mine!!” Cato yells coming over to me and swings me up onto his right shoulder blade.

“Put me down Cato!!” I say lightly punching the side of his head. 

“No can do, Princess!” Cato says and Clove laughs from down below. Before I know it all the interviews are over. I’m kinda bummed I missed Brady’s interview, but oh well. “Aaliya, I think you should join us careers.” Cato says looking up at me on his shoulder.

“I can’t. At least not yet.”

Glimmer looks like she just won the games the way she is beaming at my response. Marvel is frowning, Clove and Cato look like their one step from death. 

“I need to talk to Aaliya,” I hear from down below me. Brady.

“Put me down Cato,” I say and this time he puts me down. I take another step towards Brady and he grabs my hand. 

“Aaliya, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Brady starts. I watch as Marvel rolls his eyes and walkes out of the room. Cato walks closer behind Brady. I don’t think he likes him. 

“I love you Aaliya. I really, really, do,” he says. Cato and Clove's mouths fall open and I stare into Brady’s eyes. 

“Y-You love me?” 


	7. Bloodbath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the characters, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Brady Thompson told me he loved me exactly three hours, ten minutes, twenty-two seconds ago, and I can’t stop thinking about him. I haven't been able to sleep at all, but I need to, because in that arena every second I give in to fatigue will be an invitation to death. 

It’s no good. One hour, two, three pass, and my eyelids refuse to close. I can’t stop thinking of what terrain I’ll be thrown into. Dessert? Swamp? A frigid wasteland? Above all I’m hoping for trees, which may give me some sort of food or shelter. Often there are trees because barren landscapes are dull and the Games resolve too quickly without them. But will the climate be like? What traps have the Gamemakers set up to liven up the slower moments? And then there are my fellow tributes……

The more anxious I am to sleep, the more sleep stays away. I see a slip of paper on the little desk. My feet leave the bed and I make my way over to the desk, only thinking about the games and Brady. I wouldn’t see Brady again until the Games started. I couldn’t let that happen. I pull on a fleece jacket and step out the door, the paper in my hand.

When I get to Brady’s door I knock lightly but receive no answer. I sit my hand on the door handle and find that it’s unlocked. I push the door open and slip inside. 

Brady looks so peaceful, curled up under his grey comforter. I envy him, he can sleep like he's not worried at all. All because he isn’t scared of what will happen to him, he just wants to protect me. 

For all I know Brady could turn into one of those raging tributes, the kind who tries to eat someone's heart after they kill them. There was a guy like that a couple years ago from District 6 named Titus. He went completely savage and the Gamemakers had to have him stunned with electric guns to collect the bodies of the tributes he killed before he ate them. Still, I don’t think Brady would ever be like that. 

I open the slip of paper and scribble down four words.  I Love You too.  I slip the paper into Brady’s hand and head back to bed. I lay down my head and finally get some sleep. The dreams however, were not as pleasant.

************** 

I was right. I never saw Brady this morning. Katrina comes to me in the morning. She gives me a simple shift to wear and guides me to the roof. My last dressing and preparations will be done in the catacombs, under the arena itself. A hovercraft appears out of nowhere and a ladder drops down. I place my feet on the bottom rung, and then it’s like I’m frozen. Some sort of current glues me to the ladder while I’m lifted safely inside. 

I expect the ladder to release me then, but I’m still stuck when a woman with a white coat approaches me carrying a syringe. “This is just your tracker, Aaliya. The stiller you are, the more efficiently I can place it.” she says.

Still? I’m a statue. But that doesn’t prevent me from feeling the sharp stab of pain as the needle inserts the metal tracking device deep under the skin of my forearm. Now the Gamemakers will always be able to trace my whereabouts in the arena. They wouldn’t want to lose a tribute. 

As soon as the tracker’s in place, the ladder releases me. The woman leaves and Katrina is retrieved from the roof. An Avox boy comes and directs us to a room where breakfast has been laid out. Despite the sickening feeling in my stomach, I eat as much as I possibly can. The only thing that distracts me is the view from the windows as we sail over the wilderness below. This is what birds see. Only they are safe and free. Unlike me.

The ride lasts about half an hour before the windows black out, suggesting we’re near the arena. The hovercraft lands and Katrina and I go back to the ladder, only this time it leads down to a tube below, into the catacombs that lie beneath the arena. We follow instructions to my destination, the chamber for my preparation. In the Capital, they call it the Launch Room. 

Everything is brand new. I will be the first and only tribute to use this Launch Room. The arenas are historic sites, preserved for the Games. Popular destinations for Capital residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where deaths took place. You can even take parts in reenactments.

They say the food is excellent.

I struggle to keep my breakfast down as I shower and clean my teeth. Katrina does my hair in two french braids down my back. Katrina has no say in my outfit, doesn’t even know what's in the package. Still, Katrina helps me dress in the undergarments, simple tawny pants, black blouse, sturdy brown belt, and thin, hooded blue jacket that falls to my thighs. “The material in the jacket’s designed to reflect body heat. Expect some cool nights,” she says.

The boots, worn over skin tight socks, are awesome. Soft leather, narrow flexible rubber soles with treads. Good for running.

I think I am finished when Katrina bulls a small box from her pocket. “What’s that?”

“From Finnick.”

I open the small box and see a ring. The band is a triadent and there is a bright blue pearl right in the center. On the back side in small print is the name Finnick. “It’s beautiful!” I exclaim sliding the ring on my finger.

“He wants it to be your District token. You're like his little sister, he loves you, Aaliya. He was crying this morning, scared out of his mind for you. He knows you can win. The ring barely cleared the review board. Some thought it could be used as a weapon. They elimited a ring from Glimmer though. If you twisted the gemstone, a spike popped out. Poisoned one. She claimed she had no knowledge of it. There you're all set. Move around a little, make sure everything’s comfortable.”

So that's why Finnick never said goodbye last night like the others. Because he thinks I can survive the Games.

I walk around in a circle and wave my arms around. “Yes, it’s fine. Fits perfectly.”

“Then there’s nothing to do but wait for the call,” says Katrina. “Unless you think you can eat more.”

I turn down the food but accept a glass of water which I take tiny sips of as we sit on the couch. Nervousness seeps into terror as I anticipate what is about to come. I could be dead, flat-out dead, in an hour. Not even. 

“Do you want to talk, Aaliya?” asks Katrina.

I shake my head but in a moment reach my hand out to her. Katrina encloses it in both of hers. This is how we wait until a pleasant female voice announces it’s time to prepare for the launch. 

Still clenching one of Katrina’s hands, I walk over and stand by the circular metal base. “Remember, Aaliya. Fun, find water. The rest will follow.” she says and I nod. “And remember this. I love you. Finnick loves you. We have total faith in you.”

“Truely?” I ask.

“Truely,” says Katrina. She leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Good luck sweetheart.” And then a glass cylinder is lowering around me, breaking our handhold, cutting her off from me. She taps her fingers under her chin. Head high.

I raise my chin and stand as straight as I can. The cylinder begins to rise. For maybe fifteen seconds I’m in total darkness then I feel the metal cylinder pushing me out of the total darkness and into the open air. For a moment, my eyes are dazzled by the bright sunlight and I am only conscious of the strong wind and hopeful smell of pine trees.

Then I hear the legendary announcer, Claudious Templesmith, as his voice booms all around me. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!”

***********************

Sixty seconds. That’s how long we’re required to stand on these metal circles before the sound of the gong realises us. Step off before the minutes up, and the land mines blow your legs off. Sixty seconds to take in the ring of tributes, all equally distanced from Cornucopia, a giant golden horn shaped like a giant cone with a curved tail, the mouth of which is at least twenty feet high, spilling over with things that will give us life in the arena. Food, containers of water, weapons, garments, medicine, fire starters. Strewn across the cornucopia are other supplies, their value decreasing the farther they are from the horn. 

We’re on a flat, open stretch of ground. A plain of hard packed dirt, behind the tributes across from me, I can see nothing, indicating it’s a steep cliff downwards. To my right is a lake. To my left and back is piney woods. The gong sounds and I immediately run. I see the thing I need most right in the center. A trident.

I run straight towards it when a boy comes at me with an axe. I trip trying to get away from him falling to what I thought would be my death. I raise my hands above my face preparing for the hit. But it never came. I feel hot sticky blood splatter against my hands and the boy falls. Dead. A knife in his throat.. Clove stood there retrieving her knife from the boy's dead body. “Meet me out behind the cornucopia in 10,” she whispers and disappears. 

All around me the tributes are dieing. The green grass has shifted colors to a deed bloody red. Glimmer is over by the stack of food, repediantly stabbing a tribute in the neck. Their face was so soaked in blood I couldn’t make out who it was. Marvel stood in the mouth of the cornucopia and sent a spear into the District 8 female’s abdomen. I run towards the back but see something was missing. The trident was gone. I missed my chance.

I make it to the back of the cornucopia and see Clove standing there. “Hey District 4!” she whispers. “I got something to help you and loverboy out.” She reaches for the inside of her coat and pulls out three knives, all different shapes and sizes. “For you,” she says, thrusting the knives into my hand. Before I can say thank you she speaks again.

“This is from Cato.” she reaches behind her and pulls out an orange backpack. It would be full of useful things that could keep me alive longer. “And this,” she says a small smirk appearing on her face, “is from Marvel.” There it is, Clove handed me the shimmering trident. That could save my life in this arena.

“Thank you Clove! Thank You!!” I exclaim pulling her into a hug.

“Good luck, District 4! Now get out of here!! I’ll see you again soon.” and with that Clove runs back to the bloodbath throwing another knife at an unlucky tribute. 

I make my way to the woods and grab Brady’s arm. Hand in hand we run deeper into the woods to get as far away from the cornucopia as we can. The 74th Hunger games have officially begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting lately. I guess I was busy with Christmas, but that's not a good excuse. I am also working on a fan fiction called Clato- Not All Love Stories Have a Happy Ending, which I plan on posting the first chapter tomorrow, so please check it out. Remember to leave Kudos and comment if you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	8. Living In Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 8- Living In Fear

  
  


Brady and I continue running, not saying a word, until the trees hide us from all the other tributes, and we slow to a jog. For the next few hours we alternate between a steady jog and walking, putting as much distance between us and our competitors as possible.

I glance over at a struggling Brady, who is carrying the backpack and trident. “Stop,” I whisper.

“What?! Is someone here?” Brady asks, frantically pulling out one of the three knives.

“No,” I reply and Brady relaxes a little. “Brady, you're carrying way too much and you're running out of breath. We have no water for you either. You gotta let me carry something,” I say extending my arm.

“No, I’m carrying everything. And I don’t need water,” he says stubbornly.

“At least let me carry my trident!”

“Fine!” Brady reaches behind him and pulls my shiny trident out of his belt, and hands it to me. “Now, lets keep going.”

As we jog I notice the woods start to get deeper, the pine trees intermixing with trees I can't name. The ground slopes down at one point, but a moment later we are going up again. 

We’re probably on screen right now. Not continuously, but off and on. There are many deaths to show the first day, so two tributes trekking through the woods isn’t very entertaining. They’ll show us enough to show we’re alive and moving. 

It must be late afternoon by the time I hear the cannons go off, and Brady and I pause to count. One…..Two…..Three…..on and on until they reach nine. Nine of us are dead in all. 15 left to play. We’ll know who died in a couple of hours. When they project the dead tributes faces into the sky for everyone out here to see.

“Brady, let's take a break,” I say panting, and slump down to the ground.

“Aaliya, are you okay!” Brady asks, running over to me and kneeling down.

“I’m fine, just tired. Lets see what's in the pack, we gotta look before it's dark.” Brady and I sit, our backs pressed against a pine tree trunk, and Brady hands me the pack.

As I begin to unhook the straps, I can tell it’s made of strong material. I flip open the flap. What we need most right now, is water. I’ve kept my eyes open all day, but the only water source I’ve found is the lake by the cornucopia. I grab the first item, a thin green sleeping bag and hand it to Brady. Then I pull out a pack of jerky, a pack of dried fruit, sunglasses, water purifier, a small container of medicine, a thin coil of rope, and a container to fill with water. 

“That's useful stuff, but I wish we got water,” Brady says as he hands me back the supplies. I nod and stuff it all back into the pack. Brady swings the pack onto his shoulder, I grab the trident, and we continue walking deeper into the woods.

Shortly after twilight is closing in on us. The trees are too thin to offer much concealment, though the thin layer of pine needles hide our footprints. 

“I’m hungry,” I mutter just loud enough for me to hear.

“Then let's open the fruit,” Brady says, reaching for the pack.

I slap his hand away, heading over to a tree. I take out a short serrated knife and saw at the bark until I have a pile of the soft inner bark in my hand. I plop half of it into my mouth, and hand the rest to Brady, who looks confused but puts it in his mouth anyway.

“It’s not filling, but it’s still something,” I say.

In another hour, it’s clear we need to find a place to camp. Night creatures are coming out. I can hear an occasional hoot of an owl, which tells me I won’t be the only one trying to find food. As of larger predators I’m not sure yet, but I think my fellow tributes are more dangerous.

I’m sure many tributes will continue hunting through the night. I can only hope that we traveled far and fast enough.

“We should make camp for the night,” I say.

“Ok, what about over by that tree?” Brady asks.

“It’ll work,” I say walking over towards it. When I get to the tree I climb onto the lowest branch and shake it to make sure it’s sturdy. The branch doesn’t move, so I jump back down to solid ground.

I see Brady pulling a log over to the tree, then he sits down. I head over to the log and sit beside him. “One of us should stand guard while the other sleeps,” I say.

“Ok, I’ll guard first.”

“No you won’t. You’ll guard all night instead of waking me up!”

“Fine. But you better wake me up if you hear something, and when it’s my turn.”

I grab the pack and grab the sleeping bag and coil of rope from inside. I walk over to Brady and thrust it into his hands.

“Ok, so I get why I would use the sleeping bag, but why the rope?” he asks puzzled.

“To tie yourself to the tree, idiot!”

“Oh.” Then Brady gives me a small hug, then he leaps up into the tree, pressing his back to the trunk. 

Shortly after Brady goes to sleep, the Panem anthem begins to play, and Brady’s eyes flutter open. The sky lights up to the panem flag and I stare up at, waiting for the fallen tributes' faces to appear.

The first to appear is the girl from District 3, that means the careers have made it. No surprise there. Next the boy from District 5, both from 6, both from 7, both from 9, and the girl from 10.

I run through the tributes left in my head. Marvel. Glimmer (I scowl at that one.) Clove. Cato. The boy from 3. The foxface girl from 5, both from 8, and the boy from 10. Thresh. Rue. Katniss. Peeta. Brady. And Me.

I sit propped up by the tree, twirling my ring around my finger. I reread the little fancy-scripted word on the bottom, Finnick. 

I wonder what they’re up to right now. Probably all sleeping in their warm Capital beds, stomachs full of expensive Capital food. I keep daydreaming about this.

Suddenly a blood-curdling scream is heard, and I jump up, trident in hand. Then a cannon booms, signaling another tribute dead. There’s smoke rising somewhere in the distance, probably where the tribute was murdered. If they were dumb enough to light a fire, then they deserved to be dead.

“Go to sleep, Aaliya,” a voice says and I turn around and look up at the tree. Brady’s was climbing down from the tree. “It’s my turn to take watch.”

“Someone was just killed,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“Do you think it was-”

“No, Aaliya. I mean it wasn’t one of your brutal friends.”

“Your right. It couldn’t have been.”

I sit there a moment thinking about which tribute had just been killed. Brady sits beside me, looking at me sternly.

“Go to sleep, Aaliya.” he says.

“Fine.” I give Brady a small hug and climb up into the tree. I climb into the thin sleeping bag and tie the rope around my waist, connecting me to the tree. I wonder what tomorrow will be like and if I will be alive in 24 hours. And with that happy thought, I close my eyes. 

*********************

Morning comes faster than I would have expected. No more cannons boomed. I only woke a few times, each time I could hear Brady muttering something, but every time I asked him what he was muttering about, he told me to go back to sleep.

The sun has just raised above the horizon when I climb out of the sleeping bag. It is already warm out, which kind of shocked me after such a cool night.

I roll up the sleeping bag and rope, shove them up my arm sleeve, and climb down the tree. When I get to the trunk of the tree I scrape off some of the soft bark and hand half of it to Brady.

“Thanks,” he says, putting his share in his mouth.

“We should definitely move to higher ground,” I say, putting my bark in my mouth.

“Why?”

“Because we can be sought out if we stay here. Last night, that scream was close by. That means the careers will still be close by, and any one clever will stay close to the careers to steal supplies.”

“Ok, so we should go back towards the Cornucopia. There were higher peaks that way for sure. If we keep going forward we could just keep going down hill, and if we get too far away the Gamemakers will try to make our path more interesting.” 

“I’ll start packing up while you finish,” I say and hop up.

I put the sleeping bag and rope in the bottom of the bag followed by the jug for water. I stuff the rest of the items into the pack and strap my trident onto my belt. Brady attaches two knives to his belt and keeps one in his hand.

“Come on, let's head out,” Brady says and extends his hand out to me. I grab it and we take off back towards the cornucopia. 

The woods were loud today. The Mockingjays were singing and birds flew above our heads. If I had had a bow I would have shot one out of the sky. 

Dehydration was definitely dwelling on us. Every step felt like I was gaining one hundred pounds and my head spun making the trees spin. The last time I drank anything was the water from before I was brought into the woods. We will be growing weaker every day and at this rate, if we don’t get water we’re better off as dead.

Brady and I continue walking for hours before there is any sign of high ground. There have been no cannons since last night, but knowing the careers they’ll decide to kill during the night. 

We continued walking a little farther in silence. My stomach was empty after only eating pine for two days. My throat was burning from lack of water.

“Stop!” I whisper.

“What?”

“Look, over there!” I point towards a rabbit over in a clump of trees chewing up the grass. It wasn’t huge but it was meat, and it would taste delicious.

I ask Brady to give me a knife and he immediately hands one over, knowing what I was going to do. I raise the knife behind my right ear and release.

The knife sinks into the rabbit’s neck, causing a wave of blood to wet the grass. Normally this might have disturbed me a little, but under the current circumstances it made me smile with relief.

I run over and grab the knife from the small victim's neck. I stick the body in our pack to skin and cook later. We continue walking a little ways before I see a deep stream.

“Brady Look!”

“Look at what exactly?” He asks grumply.

“The Stream idiot!”

“Oh My God, there’s water!” He yells and takes off at the stream. I laugh as he gulps down the water. I run over behind him and take small sips of the cool water.

I lift my head up to say something, but I’m too shocked by seeing a shirtless Brady. “Oh My God Brady, what are you doing!” I yell, instantly covering my eyes.

“I’m gonna take a bath the best I can, Aaliya. Chill out girl,” he says.

“Are you gonna take your pants off too?” I ask, still covering my eyes.

“Yes Aaliya, it’s how you take a bath.”

“Well while you do that, I’m gonna go skin the rabbit.” 

I walk away from the stream and sit with my back against a giant oak tree. I take the rabbit out of the pack and grab the long serrated knife. I gently slice off the fur of the rabbit until all I have left is a meaty rabbit and a pile of fur. 

I start a small fire under the safety of the trees, to cook the rabbit. There is one slight problem. I don’t know how to cook a rabbit over a fire.

“Need help with that?”

“Brady, thank God you're finished. Do you know how to cook a rabbit? Because I certainly don’t. I could really use your help.” I turn towards him and sigh. “And Brady, for the love of God could you put a shirt on?”

“Yes Aaliya,” he says and pulls his shirt on over his head.

“Can you handle this by yourself, or do you need help?” I ask him.

“I can do this. You should go take a nap.”

“No. I want to take a bath. You do not come to the water under any circumstances, hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And hold this,” I say thrusting my ring into his hands. “Lose it, and I kill you.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” Brady starts working on the rabbit, so I take off over the bank. 

I slip off my shoes first then my socks, revealing my blister covered feet. Next I slip off the jacket so I’m just in my shirt and pants. I must trust Brady an awful lot that he won’t come to the water, because I decide to slip off my undergarments and place them neatly on the shore.

The stream was cool on my bare skin. The murky stream floor squashed between my toes. I swam into the deeper water so the water rose just above my chest. 

I don’t have proper hygiene utensils, so I make the best out of what I have. I use one of my dingy socks to scrub my body down. Now some people might find that super gross, but when you're in The Hunger Games it is the best thing you can do. I rub my skin down getting off all the grime, until my skin is raw. I scrape my fingers through my dirty hair, getting out as much dirt as I can. 

“Hey Aaliya, I finished the rabbit!”

I screech and quickly cover my chest with my hands. I sink down deeper into the water. “I told you not to come over here Brady,” I say as calmly as possible. Then I lose my cool. “I’m Naked!!”

“Aaliya, chill out. I can’t see anything!”

“I’ll be right there,” I say sternly. Brady runs off like he’s scared of me. I quickly pull my clothes on and head over to get some rabbit. 

The rabbit was the best thing I could have imagined. It was juicy and tender. The skin was flakey and crispy. I ate every piece of my share and licked all the juice off my fingers.

“Wow Brady, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Neither did I,” he says and laughs. Brady puts out the fire and covers the ashes in leaves so no one can track us down.

There was only one death today. The girl from 8, the idiot who lit the fire last night. That means tomorrow the Gamemakers will make sure someone dies. I lay on my back beside Brady thinking.

“What are you thinking about?”

I sigh and pull myself up beside Brady. “I’m tired of living in fear, Brady. I’m scared of almost everything right now and I’m sick of it!”

“Well, you're safe with me. I’m stronger than the careers.”

“Brady, compared to the careers, you’re a mouse and they’re the lions.”

“Then I’ll be your protector mouse!” he says humbly.

“I love you Brady,” I whisper.

“Then kiss me,” he says.

“Ok,” I say and I smile, and I do. 

“Now Aaliya,” he whispers inches from my lips. “Go to sleep.” He kisses me one more time.

I go to sleep then, right in Brady’s arms. And I feel protected. I am protected, and Safe. Safer than I’ve ever been before. 


	9. Brady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 9 - Brady

Brady didn’t wake me up all night. So when I woke up I was mad.

“Brady Jeremy Thompson, why didn’t you wake me up!”

“I was letting you sleep, Sunshine,” he says with a yawn.

“Well, now you're tired.”

“Am not!”

“Are to!”

“Am not!”

“Brady, let's just pack up camp.”

“Ok.”

Then a few minutes later I hear him whisper, “I won!” And I roll my eyes. Brady starts to fill up our pack. “Give me the water container.”

“Ok,” he says and hands it over to me. I head down to the stream and fill the container with all the water I can. I head back up the bank and put the container in the bag. 

“It’s going to be heavier now,” I say. “I’m gonna carry it for a little bit.”

“No you’re not, Aaliya.” He swings the pack over his shoulder and takes off, leaving me to run after him. We are making our way to the cornucopia, I’m not sure why. When we get there all the remaining tributes could be stalking the woods, planning a way to kill me. The careers would be there for sure, but they wouldn’t kill me. They’d kill Brady, but not me. 

“Brady let's head west a bit, stay a little bit away from the cornucopia.”

“Whatever you say sunshine.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Your new nickname. Now come on!”

Brady and I continue trekking through the woods, whenever we feel we’re heading towards the cornucopia we vear west a bit. The woods are loud again today. The rabbits played near the bushes and mockingjays sing above us. 

There have been no cannons yet today, and it was already mid-morning. The careers mustn't have had much luck last night. I am shocked the boy from District 8 hasn’t died yet, normally they don’t last long. The boy from District 10 looked pretty strong along with Thresh from District 11. The little girl from District 11, Rue, was doing quite well. All the careers were still here, along with Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

The rabbit has kept me quite full, but it won’t last much longer. The water from this morning has no effect on me any longer, seeing now my throat is drier than ever. 

“Aaliya stop, get behind me!” Brady says sternly.

“Brady chill out, there’s nothing here.”

“Aaliya Mia Camron, get behind me now!” And that’s when I do. “Aaliya grab your trident. Now!” And I do. I pull out the trident and Brady pulls out one of the knives.

“Brady, what is it?” I ask, a little scared.

“Someone is here,” he says.

That’s when I hear it. Someone was lurking around us and there was no way out. I just hope it’s one of the careers, but I know it’s not. 

Then before my eyes can adjust to what's happening a knife comes barreling my way. The tribute didn’t know how to throw a knife because it just missed me. 

But the tribute was going to die. I run right towards him and he looks scared, but he doesn’t run. I put the end of my trident right to his heart, when he speaks. 

“Please they made me-” he begs but I don’t listen. I stab the blade of my trident deep into his heart and a cannon booms. With all the blood now oozing over his body it was heard to make out who I just killed. But I still knew, it was the boy from 8.

“Hey Brady I think we’re good to keep going now, the guys dead.” And that’s when I saw him. I turn around right in time to see Brady collapsing to the ground pulling a knife out of his stomach. 

I scream running over to him. “Brady hold on, it will just take me a second.” I rummage through the pack trying to find the medicine or the first-aid kit, but he grabs my hand.

“Aaliya, stop. None of that stuff will work,” he says weakly his face draining of color. 

“Brady, I won’t let you die,” I say and tears begin to fall down my cheeks. “You have to let me help you!”

“Aaliya, only one of us is coming out of here and you know it!” Brady says struggling for breath. “Aaliya listen to me!” he begs. “I want you to go find the careers.”

“But Brady, you hate the careers,”

“I know, but you're safe with them Aaliya,” he says struggling. “I-I can’t p-protect you a-anymore.”

“Brady you’re not dying!” I yell.

“Aaliya, I’m dying. The blood is leaving my body and little air is coming in!”

“Brady you can’t die, I love you!”

“I love you to Aaliya,” he says and smiles. And I kiss him. Deep down I know it will be the last time I get to do so. 

“Take this, Aaliya,” he says and grabs at a gold chain around his neck. He’s too weak to take it off so I take it off for him and secure it around my neck. I hadn’t noticed it before. It’s a beautiful golden locket with his initials carved into the center.

“It suits you,” he says.

I smile as the tears stream down my cheeks. I unzip

his jacket and press my hands against his bloody t-shirt trying to stop the blood flow.

“I love you,” he whispers and then his chest stops moving, and his eyes don’t blink, and he has a permanent smile planted on his face. And a cannon goes off. 

“Brady! Brady! Brady, wake up! Please Brady wake up, I love you, wake up!” I sob into his chest. I zip up his jacket and close his eyelids so it looks like he’s sleeping. 

But I don’t get up. I don’t leave. I sit here, beside him sobbing for what seems like hours but really it could only have been minutes. They would remove his body soon, along with the boy from 8. If I didn’t leave, they would make me leave, forcefully. But I will stay. Then I hear a voice.

“Aaliya?” says a male voice that I instantly recognize.

“Marvel?”


	10. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights go to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Movie creators. Suzanne Collins owns all the character, quotes, settings, and themes. All the OC character belong to me.

Chapter 10 - Fire 

“Aaliya! Are you ok? You’re covered in blood! Let me help you!” Marvel says and runs over to me.

“Marvel, I’m fine,” I say as tears continue streaming down my cheeks.

“Then why are you bleeding, and crying?” he asks puzzled.

“It’s not my blood, Marvel. It’s Brady’s, he’s dead,” I say and I start crying harder again. “He’s dead Marvel, I loved him and he’s dead!”

Marvel instantly offers me his hand and I take it, and he pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry Aaliya, I’m so, so sorry.”

I cry into Marvels chest and he rubs my back and whispers things in my ear, trying to get me to calm down. Eventually I run out of tears to cry and just close my eyes, not to sleep but to block out the world.

“Aaliya, we gotta get going. If we don’t move away from the bodies the Gamemakers will forcefully move us.”

I let go of Marvel and look him in the eyes. “Where are the rest of the careers?”

“Aren't I enough for you?” he says with a smirk.

“Answer my question, Marvel!”

“Their back at the cornucopia. I was trying to find a rabbit or something. Instead, I found you.” I nod slowly. “Come on, now. We have to get going.”

I nod and grab my trident from the boy from 8, along with my pack, and the knife that killed Brady. As I walk away I turn one last time to look at my best friend, he looks so peaceful. Maybe it was for the best, I won’t have to worry about him anymore, but I long for him to be here with me still. I raise three fingers out towards the sky, and Marvel follows my lead. “Good-bye Brady,” I say and smile, shedding one last tear, turning around and walking away, without looking back.

Marvel and I continue walking a bit and I begin to feel we’re walking in circles “So, do you really know how to get back to the others or are we lost?”

“We’re not lost, Aaliya. I’m a very good tracker,” he says and I laugh. Like Marvel’s a good tracker.

“Aaliya, stop!”

“Marvel, last time someone said that to me, they died.”

“No ones gonna die, Aaliya. But, do you smell that?” 

“It smells like-”

“Smoke,” he says, putting the pieces together. And that’s when I see it. Even through the glare of the afternoon sun, my stinging eyes can still see it. It’s kind of hard not to see a wall of fire coming right at me.

******************

If Marvel hadn’t been here beside me, I would have been dead. Instead of moving my feet stay planted to the ground. “Aaliya, come on, grab my hand!” Marvel yells frantically. But instead I don't move an inch, paralized in fear. 

“Aaliya, grab my hand now or we’re gonna die!” That’s when I lunge at his hand and grab it. 

The world has transformed to flame and smoke. Burning branches crack and fall in showers of sparks at our feet. The heat is terrible, and worse than that is the smoke that threatens to suffocate me any moment. I pull the top of my shirt over my nose, thankful to find it soaked in sweat, which will offer me a thin veil of protection. And I run, choking, my bag banging against my back, my face cut from branches that materialize from the gray haze without warning, because I know I'm supposed to run.

This is no tribute’s campfire gone out of control, no accidental occurrence. The flames around us have abnormal height, meaning they are human-made, machine-made, Gamemaker-made.

Marvel and I continue running, coughing, trying to put as much distance from the fire as possible. That’s when the fire-balls start. One came at Marvel's face, then mine. Then one crashes into my arm before I can dodge it.

I scream collapsing in pain. Then the world begins to spin and strong arms wrap themselves around me. The last thing I remember before passing out is Marvel’s frantic screams trying to wake me up.

**************

“Aaliya! Aaliya wake up!” The voice belongs to someone I vaguely remember. Then I realise who it belongs to. The voice belongs to Peeta Mellark.


End file.
